


The Secret of Rowena Ravenclaw

by raienetta



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Hogwarts Founders Era, M/M, Not Really Character Death, Other, Poor Life Choices, Questionable Choices, Slow To Update, author has absolutely no idea about what they are doing, misguided characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2019-06-09 01:39:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15256593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raienetta/pseuds/raienetta
Summary: Beneath Hogwarts, Rowena Ravenclaw hides a secret; the source of the wards surrounding Hogwarts.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> One and only Disclaimer: Both the Merlin and Harry Potter franchises belong to rich British people. I am not British nor am I rich thus I do not own either. I do, however, claim rights to any original characters and ideas that I have seen fit to include in the story.

Rowena looked upwards towards the castle, admiring the gleam it took on in the absence of sunlight. The walls which usually loomed over the vast grounds and the dense forest seemed calm against the hues of purple, pink and blue that painted the sky.

The picture was infinitely more astonishing when one looked at the backdrop. Clouds obscured part of the sky to the left, causing the colour of the sunset to blend and twist making the reflection in the loch seem ethereal.

 _You built this_ , she thought, _you, Salazar, Godric and Helga._

Rowena looked upwards at the castle that gleamed, mesmerising all who would look at it, it was the product of her and her friends' hard work.

Sometime during her reminiscence, Godric had appeared next to her, the light from his torch cast heat towards the surroundings, "I would have thought to find you in the library, not out here watching the sunset,"

"Hmm, Oh yes," She mumbled, still in a trance, "I thought that I should have a look at the whole picture every once in a while,"

"It is rather splendid, is it not?"

"Yes, although, a few people would not go amiss," Rowena prompted, signalling with her hand for them to walk.

"We—that is Salazar and I—have come up with a way to distribute the letters," Godric stated, proudly explaining the decision of using birds.

The journey to the castle was not long, the ridge, however, was steep and troublesome to navigate in the low light emitted from the torch. The fact that they could have safely used magic crossed neither of their minds until they saw Helga at the entrance, her hands on her hips.

The braziers on either side of the hall shadowed Helga, making her look less like a dangerous beast and more like an irritable mother. Helga's hands moved from her hips and crossed in front of her. She was ready to administer a scolding when Salazar came down the hall, determined to soothe her with his words.

"Dear Helga, supportive as I am of your insistence on correcting our friends' behaviour, we have been hard at work all day and are all very hungry, are we not?" When Salazar fixed his gaze, Godric and Rowena were quick to nod their agreement agree.

"Alright," She conceded, turning to head to the hall.

There was no doubt, Helga was a lady of good breading. She held her head high no matter the occasion and did not base people on the word of others. She was passionate, hardworking and loyal but she was often far too passive and mistaken for a fool.

Lightning flashed outside, illuminating the corridor with a glow. Then thunder was heard, rumbling and ominous.

"I do hope no one is travelling tonight," Helga whispered pushing open the doors to the hall, Rowena wished the same. She knew, however, that the likely hood of someone travelling was exceptionally high.

"Helga," Godric murmured, awed at the decorations, "You have surely outdone yourself,"

With appreciative envy, Rowena admired the hall. Helga and her helpers—they seemed to resemble elves—had managed to mould breathtaking statues out of the stone walls; Serpents curled into the walls, badgers leaned over snarling, griffins stood mid-rear and attached to the back of all the animals were wings to represent eagles.

They had them placed around the side of the hall and in their clutches, held braziers. The braziers were merely meant to light up the corners and, as such, thousands of candles were hovering in the air over four long tables. Each table had two benches, on either side, which were of similar length but ended a few centimetres from the end as to slide smoothly under the table, when not needed.

The table second from the left was set up with five sets of dining ware. Between the plates lay a jug of mead, another of ale, a pot of stew and a basket of bread.

"Are either Hooky or Tinky joining us, Helga?"

"No, neither are, but they insisted on placing the fifth set down,"

"How odd," Salazar commented.

"Indeed,"

"Can we start eating now?" Godric groaned.

Laughing, Helga spooned some stew into a bowl and passed it to him. She did this for her friends' bowls before raising her spoon. Splendid. Helga could not express how each spoon seemed to explode, filling her mouth with new flavours each time. Tearing a piece of bread from the loaf, she dipped it into the stew, soaking up the juice which her spoon would no longer let her.

_Boom!_

Helga had dropped her bread, thankfully in her bowl, Salazar had stood up as to not get wet for the mead Rowena had been pouring which was now on the table, currently being mopped up, and Godric the idiot he was, was still eating.

The four friends looked over at the door to the entrance hall, standing there was a man. He had black hair and emotionless blue eyes, which seemed to contrast beautifully with his features and the grim grin he had planted across his face.

"So sorry, but I have been knocking for the last few minutes, decided I may as well let myself in,"

"And blasting the door open was the best way to do that?" Salazar's drawling tone knocked the others out of there shock.

"Never said it was," He shrugged, "You know—"

The man's sentence was interrupted by a body colliding with his leg. His arms flailed around but did nothing to stop his fall.

"Incompetent fool," He snarled.

Godric tensed, resting a hand on the hilt of his sword. If this man hit Tinky then he—Godric—would not be responsible for any appendages the man would be missing.

"Such a—"

"NO!" Tinky called, positioning herself in the man's lap, "Master Emrys should not speak such words of self. Master Emrys is good man; Master Emrys be giving Tinky hugs,"

Laughter emitted from the man and the expression he wore slipped off his face. Godric relaxed but did not remove his hand.

Tinky wore a pleased expression on her face as she spoke, "Tinky be setting a seat up for Emrys, yes she has, grumpy Hooky be telling Tinky you not coming but Tinky is knowing,"

Tinky squealed, blowing a raspberry at Hooky, "She be telling Tinky, so Tinky be knowing,"

"She does always know when I am coming doesn't she,"

"Sit, sit, sit!" Tinky had jumped up and was now pulling his sleeve. The man grinned, exclaiming that he was already sitting.

"At table! Master Emrys must sit at table!" She had dragged him towards the seat and was now pushing him down.

Despite reaching well above her waist, Tinky scaled the bench. Hooky did not have as much luck as Tinky. Instead, receiving help from the man to get up.

The three of them had engaged in a hushed conversation and ignored the others. When it was the man's turn to speak, he regarded the other group, "Are they going to stand there for the rest of the night?"

Blushing, Helga returned to her seat at the table. Continuing to eat her meal, she kindly talked with Salazar.

Rowena leaned over Godric in an attempt to speak with Emrys, as Tinky had called him, Godric rolled his eyes but made no comment.

That day the founders four made a friendship, a friendship so close it could only end in tragedy.

* * *

The Secret of Rowena Ravenclaw

* * *

Rowena felt like a glass of red wine. Surrounding her on the table was a pile of books relating to different types of wards. Rowena decided that she had done all she could for today, with a twirl of her hand the books all floated back to their place.

Her feet sunk into the fur rug as she walked to the door, grabbing her cloak she fastened it over her shoulders and walked out.

On the way down she saw Emrys tending to his plants. Seduced by the excessive amount of magic that radiated from him the plants seemed to move towards him, when they were but a swords width away they seemed to recoil as if burned. The loop was interesting to observe.

Rowena was not however here to watch and instead invited him to join her in the tavern.

"Anything, involving the tavern," He said in response, eyes never leaving the plant, "Ends with me drowning in a lake,"

Rowena was shocked for a second before she remembered who she was talking to, this was Emrys. He was different, in an indescribable way.

"Well then, I'll be off," She said turning away and continuing on the path to the forest.

The village nearest to Hogwarts that held a tavern was a day walk, inhabited by wizards and muggles convicted of magical practices.

Rowena held the necklace around her neck and whispered the spell. Around her, a whirlwind gradually formed the wind wrapped around her and with the calming of the wind she had disappeared leaving the place she was standing free of leaves.

Stepping out of the night air and into the bar, Rowena slid into a seat at the tavern. She ordered a glass of wine and watched the others in the bar.

A boy in the left corner closest to the door was talking about the kill he had just made. A woman to her left was talking about her husband to any who would listen.

The fellow to the left of her spoke with a slight accent, yet Rowena was able to understand. He was discussing how magical concepts would help improve the strength and reach of wards, this piqued Rowena's interest and soon she was locked in conversation.

Rowena had spent almost a whole hour with the man. All of the things he said had sounded like the man was educated on the subject of wards, making Rowena interested in seeing whether or not he could help her.

"You say that using multiple people when creating the wards will increase the reach that it has, but I was wondering about how you might go about making the wards last even after the original casters have died," Rowena asked genuinely curious.

The man seemed to be thinking about an answer to Rowena's question, "I—Well—That is..."

"Yes," Rowena urged.

"Well... all spells are based on magic, right and building a sustainable source of energy from which the wards would harness magic," He said, clearly having difficulty with the wording, "Would theoretically work. However, the problem with that is, in the physical world being able to power wards of the size you're implying would require magic equal to the power held by the priests and priestesses that belonged to the Old Religion,"

Rowena nodded her head in understanding, "How would I gain that power?"

"Gain?" The man chuckled, "The Old Religion is a gift bestowed upon few. No, you would have to obtain the magic from others, drain their magical cores and use that power,"

Rowena was now uncertain of this option but did not want to remove it as an option completely, "Is draining the magic from others not a form of sacrificial magic?"

"Well... that is a good question, but I believe it depends on the way in which you harness the magic. If, for instance, you were able to absorb the magic without harming the person—a highly unlikely outcome—then it would be energy absorption,"

"Is there a way which would only require a single sacrifice?"

"Theoretically, if you were able to find a large enough source than yes,"

Rowena thanked the man for the conversation, paid for the wine and left the bar. She had some research to do and the few books located in the ever—although very slowly—growing collection of the library would likely not hold enough information. Apparating back to the castle, she made a mental notation to come back tomorrow. 


	2. Chapter 2

Emrys sat by the lake, across from him sat Salazar who glanced between reading his book and notes. In between the two of them lay Ophidia. The days had been growing shorter and the nightly chill settled into the land much earlier than before, cutting their lessons short.

Emrys was planning to move their lessons inside but wished to spend as much time as possible with Ophidia before she brumated*. The two-foot-long basilisk was one of the constants in Salazar's life, having been with him since his early teenage years. At the time her scales were black but were now gaining a greener tinge, indicating that she was reaching the beginning of maturity.

Once that happened she would begin to petrify those she held eye contact with and so Emrys had helped Salazar to build a large chamber design to keep her entertained, though that did not mean that the other founders knew.

"Emrys, I believe that it is time that we—indicating Ophidia and I—should withdraw to the castle. I shall hope to see you at dinner," Salazar commented, picking up his notes. Ophidia slithered up his outstretched arm and curled around his midsection, the chill of the afternoon was no place for a serpent.

Emrys watched as the bottom of the sun dipped beneath the skyline and agreed. Gathering his notes, he placed them in his bag and watched an impatient Salazar tap his foot against the grass.

Emrys aimed a verbal jab at his friend as he stood, "You only want to visit Godric,"

A blush formed on Salazar's cheeks as he hissed, "I don't know what you are talking about," with his arms crossed protectively across his chest.

Chuckling, Emrys stepped in line next to him and bumped his shoulder, "Whatever you say,"

Huffing, he bumped his mentor and strode up to the entrance muttering obscenities. Easily keeping pace, the warlock parted with Salazar when they reached the staircase. He walked up the left staircase, Salazar stepped onto the declining right.

The boy—for he was hardly a man—waited until he could no longer see Emrys before turning around and walking up to Godric's chambers.

The closer Salazar got to his destination the more he felt as if his heart would escape his chest. He knocked on the door and waited for an answer. It did not come, so he rapped a little louder this time.

From through the door, Salazar heard Godric ask who came. He answered with his name. The silence between his answer and Godric's grew. Was he no loud enough? His fear, however, was put to rest when he was told to enter.

Taking a deep breath, Salazar entered the room and upon seeing that no one was there to greet him, called out. A reply came from behind a door located in the nook of the parlour.

True to his nature, Salazar took some time and observed it. The door was small and made of wooden planks, a section towards the middle was burned. Startled, Salazar realised that it was a word yet he could only make out the first two letters— _bæ_.

Convincing himself that the word was of no importance, he opened the door and once he processed the sight instantly brought his hand to his eyes. The sight of Godric in a hip _bæþ**_ —how had he not thought of that—, as he tried to wet his hair was not one he was meant to see.

Lowering his hand from his eyes, Salazar walked behind Godric. Picking up a cup on his way, he kneeled behind the man and dipped it into the bath. Informing Godric to close his eyes, Salazar poured the water over his head and began to brush his hair.

Once he had finished, he turned around and allowed Godric to step out from the bath. Having wrapped a towel around his waist, Godric pulled Salazar into his bedchamber. He took a pair of breachers and a tunic out from his cupboard and went behind the changing screen.

"Give me that top," Salazar demanded, as soon as he had gone behind the screen.

Godric complied and garbed the other tunic before he spoke, "Why don't you like them?"

"Pardon?"

"Muggles," Godric clarified, "Why don't you like them?"

Salazar hesitated and Gordic frowned. It was unlike Salazar to try and avoid telling him something.

"A few years ago, I had a partner. He—"

"He?" Godric asked coming out from the behind the screen. Salazar nodded worriedly; some people were not as accepting as the general population.

"He—Was a muggle,"

Godric was startled having believed that Salazar had always—or at least for most of his life—had a prejudice.

"Sal," Godric whispered.

"What!" Salazar said standing up, "What do you want me to say; That I fell for a total fink who wanted nothing more bed me! That I used magic to leave after telling him in rage that I loved him! GOD DAMN IT GODRIC, TELL ME!"

Heavy breaths wracked Salazar's body and Godric realised that he was breaking. The person was had always been so stern and unyielding with the others, so indifferent that he could have been lacking emotions. That person was breaking and Godric would be the one able to hold him together.

Pulling Salazar into his chest, Godric held him tightly. Salazar wasn't any better having fisted Godric's shirt and buried his head into the other's neck.

Pulling Salazar onto the middle of the bed Godric rested against the headboard while Salazar sat, picking at the sheets. Salazar began rambling, saying that he wasn't normal and that he didn't deserve to be loved.

Disgusted with Salazar's twisted thinking Godric leaned in and placed his hand behind Salazar's head, pulling it so that they were face to face. Godric looked into Salazar's eyes as Salazar looked into him. A knock on the door had Salazar pushing himself as far away from Godric as possible, with a blush staining his cheeks.

Dinner, Helga cried before walking off.

Awkwardly existing himself, he ran out of the room. Godric sat shocked for a moment before he raced after him. With his nimble build, Salazar was easily able to turn corners, Godric soon lost him in the maze of corridors.

Deciding that Salazar would most likely have headed to dinner Godric went there. Sitting down he tried to catch Sal's eyes across the table but the man refused to look at him.

Rowena was conversing with Helga and so Godric joined them.

Rowena was conversing with Helga and Emrys seemed to be sending his speculating glances which he was not sure how to answer. Godric decided that the safer choice was Helga.

Helga had struck up a conversation with Rowena as soon as the witch had sat down and Godric believing this to be the safest choice—Emrys seemed to be intent on burning a hole through Godric with his eyes—listened in.

"—almost complete. I am finalising the preparations and should have them established by either early tomorrow or late tonight," Rowena answered, Helga, seemed to be pleased by the news but had no more to say about the topic and the two ladies soon turned to discuss the latest fashions.

* * *

The Secret of Rowena Ravenclaw

* * *

Emrys sat by the fire in his rooms, a half-empty cup of beer rested in his hand. His eyes were slightly diluted, and the charm that he had once placed on the had long since faded away. Eyes which were once coloured proudly in blue now burned goldenly and repeatedly flashed between both colours. They never settled, even for a mere second.

Overwhelmed by the pressure from storing his magic for so long, Emrys began to recreate some of his memories. A small figure roamed the floor, it kicked up dust and yelled at Emrys as he went. A grand dragon swung its tail while it lay down, watching the two men.

A soft knock on the door had him banishing his drink and repressing his magic into its corner. His eyes remained blue. "Emrys," A lady—the voice too delicate to be anything else—whispered into the silence, "it's me, Rowena,"

Unlocking the latch, he opened the door only wide enough for to his head to fit in the gap. "Rowena?" He asked. The lady in blue gave a small smile, relieved at having been able to catch the man before he went to bed for the night.

"I have a small problem regarding the wards," She admitted, "I—I need some help,

"Of course, come in," He said whilst he opened the door wider.

Rowena entered the room and when offered, sat in the chair across from Emrys. She sipped the glass of ale that had floated her way, "I would ask you tomorrow," She began, "however, I fear that the betony is drying out and will not take too well to the delay,"

Standing, Emrys walked into his chambers, "What are you doing?" She asked. Standing, she brushed the dust off of her dress and cloak.

"I'm not going to go roaming through a castle in my nightwear am I?" He said in response. He removed the nightshirt he was wearing, replacing it with a blue shirt from his cupboard and a suede jacket. He tied a red neckerchief on and leant around the door to face her.

"Um—Do you mind..." Rowena did not understand his question until he held up a pair of breeches. Hastily, she exited the room and closed the door. Not a moment*** later, Emrys exited the room, his feet covered with leather boots.

Sure that he was following, she exited his quarters and led him towards a room that lay adjacent to the Great Hall. She doused the candle and opened the door. Emrys stepped into the room after Rowena. He looked around at the items which were illuminated by the moonshine from the open roofing.

"Close the door, will you?" Rowena asked. He turned around and fiddled with the rusted latch before he heard it snap into place.

Emrys turned to face Rowena who had taken off her cloak and was tugging his top up, "Wh—What are you doing?" He squeaked.

"Paint," She responded, drawing it over his head.

Grabbing a bowl of paint from next to her, she used her fingers to paint a line down the middle of his forehead abstaining from painting his nose and continued from his bottom lip to his chin. A thick stroke found its way around his eyes along with the triskelion that wound around his shoulder. She then lent down to do his chest but darted back up, "What are these?" She asked.

"Nothing," he snapped.

"Emrys..."

"Leave it, Rowena," He said, pushing her away.

She silently fumed for a second before pushing a bowl of betony into his hands. He watched as she picked up her bowl and approached the altar. She picked a handful of herbs from her bowl and then called Emrys over, telling him how to arrange the herbs, they both stood by the altar.

When Emrys went to switch his bowl for one on the ground, Rowena brought her bowl above his head. He turned around to hand her another bowl of the herbs she was holding when the bowl shattered over his head, knocking him out.

Reminding herself why she was doing this, she chanted raising her hands above his body. He began to float towards her hands. When he was level with the altar, she pushed him onto it, making sure not to crush the betony.

She began to chant the spell, calling upon the magic in his body she connected it to the altar. A bright glow appeared along the groves in the stone. It raced up the walls and created a sphere about twenty-five centimetres in diameter. Small pulses ran across the lines and into the ball.

Placing her hand on the altar to stabilise herself she shook Emrys' shoulders. When he did not respond, she became worried and pressed a hand to his chest. Not feeling a pulse, she turned over his wrist and held her fingers there, still unable to find it, she stumbled back into the wall.

Sobs wracked her body, as she slid down the wall. She stayed like that, staring at the stone cold figure of Emrys until the light began to turn orange. She stood on numb legs at the realisation of what she had done and ran out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Brumation is defined as a state of sluggishness, inactivity or torpor exhibited by reptiles during winter months or periods of low temperature
> 
> ** The word was 'bath' (I hope)
> 
> *** A moment is averaged at 90 seconds (If my sources are correct)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really like how I've written this chapter but I know that if I try and fix it I'm just going to mess up the next few chapters as well. So here you go...

The next day found Rowena sitting alone at the table. She had styled both her hair and dress as usual. She sat at the table in a way that one watching would think that Rowena was a high-born well-educated lady who, unbothered by her thoughts, had just woken up from a dreamless sleep.

The truth, however, was far from that. She had been unable to sleep that night as she was consumed by her thoughts. They crashed into her mind like waves. Coming and going but always lapping at the edge. They drove her mad as they constantly asked her questions.

_Why Rowena?_ They sang, _Why did you do it? Why did you hurt Emrys? Was he not your friend?_

Even as she sat at the table, they whispered. They whispered to her using words. Words that, although softer compared to the storm they were previously, still drove her mad.

What will the others say? They will not trust you.

She knew that although these thoughts stemmed from her conscious and guilt, they were speaking the truth. Helga, Salazar, Godric, none would trust her. 

Godric was often seen praising Emrys and how he seemed to always be willing to partake in death-defying adventures. When he came back though, it was Helga who sang his praises. She, on the other hand, liked how he was always willing and had the skills required to help her keep the castle working. Both of them would be deeply hurt by her actions but she knew that the most difficult reaction to deal with would be Salazar and his snake's.

Salazar and Ophidia were both very close to Emrys and the three would often be found together. Sometimes they would have books with them and sometimes they would not. It did not matter what they did though as their bond was very close, almost as close as Salazar and Godric's.

_Speaking of Salazar,_ she thought.

She watched from her spot as he entered the room, around his neck lay Ophidia. She seemed to be lethargic and was curled tightly, trying to gain Salazar's heat. As both of them were very close to Emrys, they were sure to question his disappearance.

"Morning, Rowena," He greeted, happily.

"Morning, Sal, Ophidia,"

Ophidia hissed at him, "Of course," He said back to the snake. No matter how often he spoke to her, she would never get used to it, "Ophidia says 'Good morning',"

"Where's Emrys?" He asked, sitting next to her.

"Haven't seen him," She lied, even through the pain and regret filling her heart. She shouldn't have tried to drain the magic from anyone. Black magic was black magic; Nothing could change that. No motives, no reasons which were just excuses. She should have left it alone.

Eventually, Helga and Godric joined them. They sat at the table and, as the sun was already high in the sky, insisted on waiting for Emrys to come down. The decision did nothing for Rowena's emotions. The guilt settled into her even more and she knew that if there was a chance (even if it was the slightest, most unlikely change) for her to change what had happened, she would take it in a heartbeat.

"It's getting late," Said Helga as she began to stand from the table, "I'm going to get him,"

Panicked, Rowena grabbed her arms. Salazar's eyebrows rose into his hairline and then his eyes narrowed. Rowena saw this and tried to calm down, "He was probably up late last night and decided to sleep in," she said.

Helga stopped moving. She looked at her and considered her answer. She sat back down, seemingly agreeing to what Rowena had said and called for Tinky. Tinky appeared through a well-placed door to the side of the hall. It most likely led to the kitchens as Rowena had seen Helga use it before. Said lady greeted Tinky when she came and asked her when breakfast would be.

"Soon, Lady Helga. Tinky and Hooky be making breakfast for all," She said, her mood was slightly less exuberant than normal. Just before she left she looked at Rowena, her eyes pledged retribution and Rowena had to wonder whether or not they knew what she had done.

* * *

  **The Secret of Rowena Ravenclaw**

* * *

Time went on even in the absence of their friend until eventually, a few months passed. Rowena had been able to keep what she had done a secret from the others, but Salazar was getting closer to the truth.

He had become withdrawn in the absence of his mentor, but it had intensified into reclusion when he had received a letter. No one knew what was written in the letter, although it had affected Salazar in a way none of them thought possible. The only people he spoke to were Godric and some students that he thought gifted.

She had told them an excuse about Emrys and had been able to keep everyone in the dark. The wards were staying up, but the castle had begun to feel a lot colder for everyone. That was until the new people arrived.

It was at that point the castle had begun to gain sentience, some of the staircases would shift overnight and corridors that lead one place one day would lead somewhere else the next. It seemed as if it fed on the magic used by the inhabitants and areas where more magic was practised were more active.

When the first year had started with just under 30 students. They came from twelve different families, but many of them did not claim any last name. Of the twelve, the only families who did were the Abbott's and the Korizar's.

Their families were said to have both been forced from their position as nobles when the Great Purge had begun almost 400 years ago. They had not settled down since. Some of the other families came from the nearby towns, while most hailed from the area's down in the South.

The matriarch of the Abbott's, being from the South, had brought with her three kids who were 12, 14 and 17 summers. She had travelled the last part of the journey alone, and still grieving for the loss of her husband. They had been some of the first to arrive.

The Korizar's only a single son who was aged at just under 3 summers, but another was set to join them early in the next year. They had just arrived but had been able to settle down fairly quickly. During their short time living at Hogwarts, Salazar, Ophidia and the Castle had seemed to take a liking to them.

Jillian who was already waddling, often found that she would make it onto lower floors without taking any stairs. The first few times that she had found herself like this, she had been confused. It had begun to happen more often the further along she got in her pregnancy though and eventually, she had just accepted it.

On Samhain, Jillian found herself running into Salazar over and over. It was not even noon when he grew tired of it and for the rest of his day, he remained in his chambers. No matter how hard they tried, not even Godric could persuade him to come out.

It was long after dinner when he finally ventured out. He was beginning to walk past the Great Hall when, thanks to his heritage, he was able to feel as the castle shifted. Its magic centralised around the corner and he heard Jillian's tell-tale waddling. He would not have noticed her otherwise.

"Hello," She greeted when she noticed him. She was on the other side of the entrance, but he still felt slightly agitated by her presence. He gave her a tight-lipped smile and looked around.

"Hello," He whispered back even as his voice cracked. He hadn't spoken for a while, but he got a feeling that he should at this moment. He was not worried about anyone seeing them due to the time, but was still confused as to why Hogwarts had brought them together.

"Are you alright?" She said.

Coming up to him, she placed her hand on his forehead. He nodded at her as a wave of magic crashed into him. He stumbled back and (bless her) Jillian grabbed his arm to steady him.

"You better not be lying to me," She said, placing her hands on her hips. It would have been able to rival Helga's stance had she not had the protrusion caused by the babe. A violent shudder ran through her spine, and she wrapped her hands around her shoulders.

"What's happening?" She asked, her voice breaking.

"You need to follow me," He said urgently, holding out his hand,

"Quickly,"

She hesitated before grabbing it but when she did Salazar let out a breath of air. He visibly relaxed and led her behind a column where they waited. They waited and waited and waited until Jillian eventually got fed up. She went to step away from the large structure when Salazar grabbed her upper arm and pulled her back.

As she opened her mouth to argue, he covered it. The sound of heels on flooring made her look at him. While she did this, he brought his other hand up to his lips in a pled for her to remain silent. His eyes seemed to hold suspicion and a mild level of contempt.

She looked around the column to see Rowena coming down the stairs. The normally beautiful lady was currently dressed in a tunic and dirt-stained pants. In her hand was a basket that was covered by a thin cloth. The low light made seeing through the cloth a feat, while the few shapes that could be seen were almost impossible to make out.

Salazar slowly lowered his hand from Jillian's mouth while using his other to make the universally recognised sign to be quiet. Jillian recognised that there was something disturbingly weird about the current situation that they were in and tried to breathe as softly as possible.

Once Salazar was sure that she wasn't going to make any sound he peaked his head out from behind the pole, only to watch as a door that was not previously there appeared. Rowena turned the key in the lock and after removing it, went through the door which then disappeared behind her.

He waited a little bit longer in case someone else appeared before grabbing Jillian's hand and dragging her to the stairs,

"Quickly," He said, "We don't know how long she's going to be in there,"

He stopped her at the top of the stairs when he heard a door creak. Looking at Jillian he quickly cast on her one of the few spells that Emrys had taught him. It didn't work as well as he would have wanted but it would have to do. In front of him, he could see her simmer and fade until all that was left to see was a semi-gleaming shadow.

"Go! It won't last long," He whispered as he ran back down the stairs in an effort to draw attention away from her. Jillian began waddling along the corridor following Salazar's instruction to get as far away from there as possible.


End file.
